Inside the crew quarters below the deck of the ship, Shirley was in her room, looking distressed. She sighed continuously as she stared at the pile of exercise books spread out on her table.
“There’s so much… when will I ever finish?”
“If you keep sighing like this, you’ll never get through them,” a voice from the side comnted. It was Dog, who continued, “It’s not even that much, really. This is just the backlog from your daily procrastination. Miss Alice even manages to complete these exercises every day on ti, you know?”
“But do you call her approach of filling in whatever cos to her mind as ‘completing’?” Shirley retorted, rolling her eyes. She buried her head on the desk, her voice muffled as she murmured, “I want to go ashore and have fun. I want to shop in the city, eat sothing delicious… Nina told there are lots of tasty things at Wind Harbor. They have food from all over the world…”
Having been used to Shirley’s constant ramblings for many years, Dog shook his head unaffected, “The captain said that you can go ashore once you’ve finished your pending howork.”
Making a face, Shirley stared at the exercise books on her table, deep in thought. Then, with a sly glint in her eye, she bent down, whispering conspiratorially to Dog who was lying on the floor, “So, umm… would you help out? I’m sure these questions are easy for you…”
But before Shirley could even finish her sentence, a voice suddenly erged from a mirror on her desk, “I’m watching.”
Shirley, startled, let out an exaggerated gasp. Looking up, she saw the figure of Agatha materializing from the mirror, her face on the verge of tears, “Can’t you monitor soone else? Why does it feel like every ti I do sothing, you pop out of the mirror?”
Agatha replied earnestly from within the mirror, “Because the captain instructed to keep an eye on you while you do your howork.”
With a long sigh, Shirley once again buried her head into the exercise books, rolling her face over them a few tis before suddenly looking up again, “So, can you help …?”
Without hesitation, Agatha responded, “No.”
Shirley imdiately began to pout and whine, “That’s not what the stories say! They say the magic mirror knows everything, and if you ask it a question, it will tell you the answer…”
Agatha frowned, “What strange story is this?”
“The captain told it to Nina, and then Nina told .”
Listening to what essentially seed like Shirley’s playful banter, Agatha’s expression suddenly turned serious. After a few seconds of thought, she looked into Shirley’s eyes and asked, “Did the captain really tell Nina a story about a ‘magic mirror’?”
“Yes… yes,” Shirley replied, her voice tinged with nervousness. She was unsure why Agatha had suddenly beco so serious. “The captain ntioned it just a couple of days ago…”
Agatha pondered deeply, muttering to herself, “He placed inside the ship’s mirror… Was there a deeper intent behind this decision?”
Shirley, taken aback by the gravity of Agatha’s words, stamred, “Uh… what?”
But Agatha didn’t answer imdiately. After a few monts of intense contemplation, the “Gatekeeper of the Mirror” finally looked up, eting Shirley’s gaze. “Which question can’t you answer?”
Shirley thought for a mont and then pushed one of the exercise books forward, “I can’t solve the ones in this book.”
“The entire book?!”
“Well, if it’s too much, I might know how to do the ntal math section in the beginning…”
“Do it yourself!”
Back in the captain’s quarters, Duncan looked up, seeming to try and catch a distant sound.
The goat head on the navigation table shifted its gaze, inquiring, “Is sothing the matter?”
“I think I ‘heard’ Agatha’s voice,” Duncan remarked offhandedly. Of course, he didn’t truly “hear” anything; the ship continually relayed information from every corner of its confines to him. “She seems to be in Shirley’s room and sounds quite agitated.”
“Do you need to check on her? Or shall we summon her here?”
“No need,” Duncan waved the idea away with a shake of his head, “Anyone tasked with overseeing Shirley’s howork eventually becos agitated. Consider it a form of character building.”
The goat head let out an acknowledging grunt. Whether it truly understood Duncan’s jest was unclear. Sensing the mood and status of various places on the ship, Duncan sat beside the table, exhaling softly, “We should let Shirley and Nina go ashore for so fresh air. With Lucretia planning her return to Wind Harbor, perhaps she can give them a lift.”
The goat head discreetly observed the captain’s actions and deanor, finally voicing its observations, “You seem to be in good spirits?”
“Perhaps it’s because I’ve co to certain realizations, or maybe it’s because I’ve temporarily let go of certain burdens,” Duncan mused, the sunny image of Alice involuntarily coming to his mind, bringing a hint of a smile to his lips. He then shook off the thought and retrieved a “sketch” he had received from Lucretia.
With his earlier unease dispelled, it was now ti to delve into the manuscript Master Taran El had left behind after observing Vision 001, to see what secrets it might reveal.
“What is that?” The goat head, ever curious, turned towards Duncan as it noticed his actions, a flicker of light seemingly dancing within its obsidian eyes.
“This sketch was drawn by Master Taran El after observing the surface of Vision 001,” Duncan remarked nonchalantly. He spread out the sheet, positioning it near an oil lamp for better illumination. “This might contain a true depiction of the ‘sun’s’ surface. But, unfortunately, the most crucial details were intentionally obscured by Taran El himself.”
The goat head paused, emitting an ambiguous exclamation, “…Oh.”
“I thought you’d be quick to warn about the dangers of this, as you often have in the past,” Duncan said, slightly taken aback by the goat head’s lack of usual cautions. He raised an eyebrow, glancing at the statue, “Why the silence now?”
“Once, I was concerned for your safety,” the goat head replied, articulating with flattery and eloquence, “Now, I only worry about the safety of those who dare oppose you. A re sketch won’t threaten the esteed Captain Duncan, even if it were to depict the true face of an ancient god. Besides, how profound could the insights of a re mortal, like Taran El, truly be?”
Duncan ignored the obviously sycophantic rambling from the goat head and continued to study the drawing. After so ti of ticulously inspecting the sketch, he still couldn’t decipher any aningful information from the smudged lines and markings.
It even seed to Duncan that the seemingly random strokes might act as a sort of powerful “seal”, overlaying and concealing the paper’s original image, not just re ink sars.
Vanished in thought, an idea suddenly struck Duncan.
A seal with “power”?
He leaned in closer, scrutinizing the intricate lines and large smudged traces on the sketch.
Master Taran El was a seasoned scholar and a devout follower of the god of wisdom, Lahem. Even though he had health issues due to irregular routines, his expertise in the arcane arts was deep.
Such a renowned scholar would, upon noticing an exceptionally dangerous “elent” when observing Vision 001, undoubtedly employ more “professional” thods to contain that danger, even if his rationality had started to waver at the mont.
Perhaps these ink markings weren’t re random smudges. Using conventional ans, one might never discern the true image hidden behind them.
Could this be a ssage encrypted with supernatural ans?
A frown creased Duncan’s brow as a vague idea began to crystallize. He then turned his gaze to the nearby oil lamp.
Under his intense gaze, the fla within the lamp flickered montarily before taking on a haunting green hue.
The ethereal fla swelled and burned intensely, even rising from the opening at the top of the lampshade.
After a brief mont of hesitation, Duncan picked up the sketch paper and held it over the luminous fla produced by the ethereal fire.
In an instant, the roaring green fla engulfed the entire paper. It seed the paper did indeed hold a layer of disguise ford by so supernatural force.
To the side, the goat head cried out in alarm, “Why did you burn it?!”
“The ethereal fla only destroyed the ‘distorted’ parts,” Duncan replied calmly, giving the startled goat head a look. With a flick of his wrist, he extinguished the blazing flas on the paper. Astonishingly, beneath the fire, the delicate sheet remained intact. “This is its true form.”
Saying this, Duncan brought the fla-“purified” sketch closer to his eyes, taking a glance at the newly-revealed design on it.
Suddenly, his expression froze.
Noticing the captain’s stark change in deanor, the goat head quickly twisted its neck to see what had startled Duncan. However, due to its angle, it couldn’t see the front of the paper and blurted out, “What’s on it? Are you okay? That…what is it?”
Duncan finally snapped out of his trance, pulling his gaze away from the paper. With a strange expression, he looked at the goat head, “…It’s the true face of an ancient god.”
Goat head: “?!.”
Duncan didn’t elaborate further. Instead, he slowly lowered his gaze back to the sketch—a sphere locked in place by two concentric rune circles, engulfed in shadows, but its surface marred with grotesque blood vessels and patterns, looking as if it was fiercely glaring…
An eyeball.
The true form of Vision 001 was a massive eyeball, encapsulated within a dark spherical shell.
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